The Time Meddler v2
by The Literary Lord
Summary: A continuation, with permission, of a discontinued story by Maid of Rage.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:**

A continuation of a story a Deviantart friend of a friend of mine did (her account name **here** is _Maid of Rage_), but lost her muse and stopped doing it, and my friend got permission to continue it, so I will, with his help.

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing! ...And I don't own anything, either!

**Time Meddler**

Prologue

. . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . .. . .. .. . . . .. . .

The ghost portal shimmered with an unearthly light, the swirling ectoplasmic green of it almost hypnotic in nature. It was the only light in a darkened room, and the shadows danced cruelly on the dark walls. The light flared once as the portal fluctuated, and the shadows pulsed as though they were alive.

A girl's figure stepped daintily out of the glowing light, her form distorted by the one hanging over her slim frame. She shifted her grip on him, and even in the strange, glowing light, one could see the green blood that coated the unconscious male on her back.

The portal darkened again, and the girl's head whipped towards it urgently, a new energy found within her. She set the boy down gently, leapt back to her feet, and began searching for something on the edge of the portal. The light was growing dimmer as it shadowed something approaching, and the girl's searching intensified before she let out a triumphant exclamation. She pressed a large red button just as the portal darkened completely, and a dark laugh was cut off by the loud, metallic sound of the portal doors slamming shut.

The girl let out a sob of relief and sank to the ground by the doors. She could practically hear the enraged screams and wails that were sure to be coming from the other side, and the thought shook her. He had been so close. Had she been any slower–even a few seconds–he would have been loose. Again.

A low groan brought her back to earth, and with a gasp she remembered her injured companion. In a flash she had crawled to his side, her eyes glowing green with her night vision. He was exactly as she had left him—slumped over and unmoving, with ecto-blood still leaking sluggishly from his wounds. She felt the tears prickle at her eyes again, just as they had when she had first seen his state.

It had been her fault, after all. If she hadn't been so USELESS...then none of this would have happened.

Granted, HE would still be loose in the Ghost Zone, but her brother would have been safe. Safe, unharmed, and unknowing of the terror going on around him, just like she had planned.

But her plan had backfired. In her efforts to keep him from knowing of HIS escape, she had neglected to watch her back. In the end, it was Danny saving her.

Danielle let out another sob and let her fingers trace his face. He was cold. Then again, he was always cold in his ghost form, but it still shook her. She knew that he would be okay—Danny was always okay. Always brave. Always strong. Always fighting.

Which is why it looked so damn WRONG to see him there, lying among the charred ruins of the FentonWorks lab, bleeding and broken.

All of a sudden, she felt a brush of skin on her cheek, and she opened her eyes in surprise. Danny's pain filled green eyes stared up at her, his cold hand rested on her cheek. He smiled painfully, and gestured to his throat.

And Danielle's world snapped back into place. In a flash she had unbuckled his collar and unzipped his jacket, allowing him to breath more easily. Then, she unzipped the silver and black hazmat shirt he still wore beneath it to bare his wounded chest. She stifled her gasp as he cried out. His pale skin was covered in burns and bruises, with one deep sword wound cutting diagonally from his left hip to right shoulder. She knew that he would heal quickly, but she had to disinfect the wound, then bandage it and brace his ribs, as they were surely in a bad state.

Danielle reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small roll of bandages. She could feel Danny smirking painfully at her, but she didn't care. It would have to do.

Knowing she would need the light, Danielle released a ball of green fire into the air, where it hovered there light some kind of bizarre lantern. Then, she got to work.

She worked as quickly as possible, not worrying about hurting her brother more. Danny liked it to be quick and agonizing, like a band-aid being removed. A bit more painful than that, sure, but she could gladly do that for him, especially since it was her fault that he was injured in the first place. The guilt came crashing down on her again, and her movement faltered slightly.

Danny's eyes flicked to hers, and she spoke quickly before she could change her mind.

"I'm so sorry."

He opened his mouth to respond, but she plowed on.

"It's all my fault, if I hadn't hid it from you, then none of this would have happened. HE wouldn't have captured me, you wouldn't have had to save me, and you w-wouldn't have been sent f-flying through a w-wall..." her voice broke, and she busied herself with his bandages again. She had barely finished tightening the bandage when her vision was obscured by a mop of green-stained hair.

"I'm always being sent through walls..."

Danny's arms wrapped around her weakly, comforting and being comforted at the same time. She could feel his body trembling, though from effort or emotions she couldn't tell, and she let herself break.

Danny held her as she cried, her arms lying limply at her sides and her face buried in his hair. When she had finished crying, he said softly, "I forgive you."

No more was needed to be said, but he continued anyway, his voice quiet and weak. "I...I would have done the same thing." He took a deep, painful breath. "...In all honestly, I almost left you there." She stiffened in surprise, and he stroked her hair soothingly. "I was so angry...All I knew was that HE had escaped—had been free for days, and that I was the last to know. I don't need people protecting me, dammit!" his voice rose in anger for a moment, before dying down again. "But I knew why you did it. And I couldn't abandon you and leave with my own selfish fear when all you had done was try to protect me. And for that...I'm sorry also."

Danielle smiled, and for a moment, all was right. Then Danny looked around, his eyes curious.

"Where are we, any–" His voice died as he took in their surroundings.

Danielle looked up as his body began to shake. "Danny, what's wro–"

"WHY DID YOU BRING US HERE?"

Danielle flinched back at his abrupt change of mood, dropping Danny and scooting backwards on the floor. Her brother's eyes were alight with rage and an icy blue. Abruptly, the room was colder. She shivered absently, and felt reluctant fear rise at the sight of her brother. "I–I don't..."

"YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! No right to–!" He buried his face in his hand, the other propping him up halfway. He took a shaking, calming breath, and Danielle jumped in before he could continue.

"J-just lay down, Danny, you're not healed yet–"

"It doesn't matter!" Danny exploded again, and brought both knees up to his protesting chest. "Why...why HERE?"

Danielle lowered her hands slowly as he seemed to calm down. She edged closer to him and put a comforting hand on his back. "I...I didn't know..." she flinched when Danny sighed, but didn't move away.

"O-of course you wouldn't know. I...I'm sorry, Danielle. I just keep messing up, don't I? Danny looked up, and she was surprised to see tears running down his face. Danny NEVER cried...never ever. It was the LAW.

"Y-you don't need to..." she trailed off as she understood what he was talking about, and a kind of righteous fury entered her. "STOP IT!" she practically screeched, and pulled him closer. "I'm not afraid of you, I'm not..."

"...Why? I nearly killed you...I nearly...n-nearly..." Danny choked and his eyes went wide with horror.

"That wasn't you. That THING isn't you. HE isn't you." Danielle said assuredly. "You promised you wouldn't turn into him, so he isn't you. Because you never break your promises."

"But I-HE, almost...!"

"I don't care. He didn't. You DIDN'T." Danielle just held him, even though his tears had long since stopped. It had become customary. Their relationship wasn't the conventional "Brother-Sister" thing. It was so much more, in so many ways.

"...this was my house." Danny's voice was so quiet, she wasn't sure that she had heard it at first, until he continued. "I l-lived here...until I was eight. With M-Mom, and D-Dad...and Jazz..." he shuddered, then continued. "My parents were inventors...they created the first ever ghost portal. This portal. But it went wrong. Too many chemicals, too much power. When it exploded, we were all right in front of it. I got the heat of the blast, but I was the only one to survive." He let out a hollow laugh. "I was the only one to turn into a half-ghost freak, and the only one not buried when the building started to collapse."

Danielle trembled slightly. This wasn't like him. Not like him at all. Danny continued, oblivious to his sister's discomfort.

"The portal works now. Whoop-dee-freaking-doo. J-Jazz was only ten..." He sighed suddenly. "Come on, you're hurt too, let's find a place to spend the night. We sure as hell can't go back in THERE."

Like that, the conversation was closed, and Danny sent up a gust of freezing air to douse the floating green fire that illuminated the room. There were two bright flashes of white light, and they were plunged into darkness.

. . . . . . . . . .. .. . . . . . . . .. . . . .. . . ... .. . . . .. .. .. .. .. . . . . .

Danielle shivered and pulled her jacket closer. It was much colder in her human form than it was in her ghost, and she was still wearing summer clothes. In the middle of November.

Stupid.

She sent a sidelong glare at the boy walking along beside her in nothing but a thin sweatshirt. Damn him and his cyrokinesis.

Danny grinned at his sister from the corner of his eye. He loved to lord it over her in the winter, when his powers were strongest, and hers weakest. It made him feel like a proper big brother.

And it was funny to see her shiver.

He brushed his shaggy black bangs out of his eyes and contemplated momentarily about getting a haircut. He dropped the idea, though, saying he would cut it before it was long enough to put in a pony tail. A little hair never hurt anyone.

Danny was in a much better mood than the night before. His wounds were mostly healed, but for the tender scaring across his chest and a slightly aching wrist and head. He felt alive again.

Literally.

He knew that Danielle loved being in Ghost mode—it was easier for her, because it had been all that she had known. But Danny...he had been human, once. He loved the feeling of wholeness and warmth that being human gave him, and that was one thing that his "Sister" would never understand.

But he loved her anyway.

Danny let out a little noise of confirmation as he suddenly dragged the younger girl to his side, causing her to stumble in mid step. "Hey," he said to her lowly as he wrapped his uninjured arm around her. "Lighten up."

Danielle grimaced and pushed away. She crossed her arms and pouted, trying not to look at the older boy. Danny grinned again.

"Heeeeeey."

'What?" Her voice was like acid.

"It's just highschool. What's the worst that could happen?"

Danielle swore she could see red. "THE WORST THAT CAN HAPPEN?" she shrieked, rounding on her brother, who put up his hands in a 'Don't hit me' gesture. "Danny, they could find OUT! Someone could get HURT, I could FAIL!"

She had expected him to frown and say that nothing bad could happen, because he would protect everyone. She did NOT expect him to laugh.

"D-Danielle...please." Danny choked out through his laughter. "We're on the run from a psychotic evil ghost from my future, and you're worried about FAILING?" And with that, he burst into hysterical giggles, almost tripping several times on the sidewalk.

Danielle flushed red and mumbled something about stupid fruitloops, before lighting up and turning on Danny again. "We don't even have NAMES!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

"H-huh?" Danny hiccuped, wiping the tears from his face with a grin.

"Names! We don't have names, or birth certificates, or a REASON to be in...where are we, anyway?"

"Amity Park. A Nice Place to Live."

"YES! What are we supposed to do, Danny! We can't just waltz up to the office and be like, "Hi! We're orphans from the Ghost Zone on the run from an evil ghost from the future! Where do we sign in?"" She took a deep breath, "And another thing...!"

"Fine."

"...wait...huh?"

Danny grinned easily. "You can pick the names, and I'll work on the back story. Got it?"

Danielle faltered, her hands freezing where they'd been waving around frantically. "I...but...NO!"

"Why not?"

"You weren't supposed to agree!" Danielle said desperately, but she knew it was no use as Danny's grin never faltered.

"Ahh, but I do! And who knows! Maybe you'll meet someone!" Danny winked, ruffled her hair through her beanie, and left his "sister" standing there, dumbfounded and gaping like a fish.

"H-hey! Wait for me!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . .

Sam Manson twiddled her pencil so hard it went flying through the air and straight onto the desk beside her. She shot a sheepish glace to her right and noted with a sigh of relief that it was the desk of her best (and only) friend, Tucker.

Tucker sent her a little mocking glare and raised his eyebrow at her, then pointed HER pencil at the front of the classroom where the history teacher was droning about some old dead guy. Sam glared right back at him and held out her hand silently, demanding her purple bat pencil back. Tucker only grinned.

Sam growled under her breath and turned her attention back to the clock. It was moving frustratingly slowly, and now she didn't have the luxury of doodling on her notebook.

Damn you, Tucker.

As if he could sense her rage, Tucker quickly sent the pencil flying back onto her desk. Sam caught it against the wood with a resounding CRACK, but no one even looked up from their desks.

Typical.

She sent a grateful glance at Tucker, who only waved a little and went back to playing with his PDA under his desk.

And class went on.

When the bell finally rang, Sam lingered at Tucker's desk only long enough for the techno-geek to grab his bag before practically sprinting down the hallways, Tucker in tow. It was Study Hall next–Sam's favourite class, which to be fair, wasn't a class at all.

That was why she liked it.

Sam flung open the door with a shout and bounced—yes, bounced–to her chair. Tucker followed slightly less exuberantly with a fond smile on his face. Sam plopped down on her desk and buried her face in her spider back-pack, all too ready to catch some much needed sleep. Her parents had kept her up last night, arguing about safety measures or college or some such. She didn't care enough to listen, but the walls in her house(cough mansion cough) were thin.

She shuffled in her seat to get more comfortable and let out a sigh of relief just when she heard the quiet giggles coming from the back of the classroom. Sam lifted her head off of her backpack, absently spitting her hair out of her mouth, and turned to where two people she had never seen before sat.

There was a boy about her age, and a younger girl–both black haired, blue eyed and similar enough to have been twins. The boy had his hood up and was scowling at the giggling girl who was...

Looking at her.

Oh, she was gonna get it.

Sam looked meaningfully at Tucker and flicked her eyes to the back of the room. Tucker raised an eyes brow at her from his seat in front of her, then nodded. Simultaneously, the two friends rose from their seats and relocated to the chairs near the back of the room, directly in front of the new kids. Again simultaneously, they spun in their chairs and did their practised "New Kid" stare.

Sam's amethyst eyes were scarily wide, made even more disturbing by her black eye liner and violet eye shadow.

Tucker's were the opposite; narrowed into calculating green slits that peeked out from behind his rectangle glasses.

They were silent.

And then the girl started laughing again.

Sam continued staring. She was directly opposite the older boy, who she realized was probably the same age that she was. He had ice-blue eyes that were staring at her with the same intensity that she was staring at him. She allowed her eyes to flicker around his face.

Pale, fine-boned, with dark eye-lashes and a strong chin. His eyes practically shone out from the shadows of his hood and shaggy black bangs.

She glanced at Tucker, who was doing the same categorizing that she was to the girl, who had stopped laughing and was just smiling at him strangely. The two of them were extremely similar–the girl didn't even wear any make-up, making her look even more like the boy.

Eventually, Tucker looked back at Sam and widened his eyes. Sam grinned, and addressed the two bemused students.

"Alright. You'll do."

And a friendship was born.


	2. Chapter 2

This is COMPLETELY AU, meaning that I'm screwing with practically everything, so don't assume ANYTHING! Nothing! ...And I don't own anything, either!

**Time Meddler**

Chapter One: Visions of Futures Past

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Eight Years Previously...

Clockwork. The Master of Time. Cronos. The Seer of All. One ghost that you REALLY didn't want to piss off. All were titles of the powerful being floating casually by a wall of large, ornate mirrors. At closer inspection, one would see that those mirrors showed not what was reflected, but images from times long past, times not meant to be, and times yet to come. But only if there was someone to see that.

Clockwork lived alone in his tower of clocks and gears, if you could call his existence living at all. The only visitors he had were the cynical, one-eyed ghosts known as Observants, and the poor, wandering spirits of humans who could not accept that they were, in fact, dead.

Not very thrilling company.

Despite his age and company, Clockwork was not the lonely, bitter old man that one would expect of the Master of Time. He was lonely, sure, but not bitter.

Not bitter...

Oh screw it, he was bitter.

Clockwork sighed in agitation and finally let down his facade. The Observants had left, and he was alone again, so why keep it up? He slumped in the air and pushed back his hood tiredly to brush his pale hair from his forehead. It took a lot of energy to keep up his act of "All Powerful", especially around the Observants. They saw to clearly for just cheap parlour tricks and grave eyes. They needed the "real deal", so that was what Clockwork gave them. Or, appeared to give them.

It was all too easy with his power, of course, to come up with the shifting illusion that unnerved and awed the people around him. It was not easy, however, to keep up that illusion for long periods of time.

But if that was what had to be done to keep the observants off of his back, then so be it. He knew that they would never allow him such a high position if they ever guessed his true appearance.

Not that it mirrored his age–which he had not told anyone, EVER–but the Observants would not trust his judgement if they found out that he had died at the mere age of twenty-six.

Twenty-six. In human years, this was old enough to make decisions, old enough to be trusted.

Not in the Ghost Zone.

So, to keep them from discovering him, Clockwork created his illusion to make him seem...apart from time, as one would say. A child one moment, then a tad older than he really was, then an ancient old man that would surely appease the Council.

It had worked.

Clockwork was THRILLED.

Sarcasm not intended, honestly. He actually really enjoyed his job–well, enough that he didn't complain. Often. He was charged with monitoring the time-streams. All of them, from every single alternate reality, and every single moment in time. If something happened to make the dinosaurs survive the ice age, Clockwork would drop a meteor on them. Every single time. Always.

He was also charged–under orders of the Observants, of course–to monitor the Ghost Zone, and through that, the Human World. Clockwork didn't mind that. He found humans intriguing. He was far too old to remember much of his own "Life", but that only strengthened his resolve to know all he could about the World now.

He really was a curious being. He didn't know HOW the Observants put up with him.

Oh. Right.

Because he could make them all explode with just a pulse of his copious amount of spectral energy.

Can't forget that.

Grinning mentally with his sudden energy rush, Clockwork almost didn't realize he was having a vision until a wave of vertigo overtook him, and he faltered in the air. Forming legs quickly, he dropped to the stone floor of his chamber and waited for the dizziness of the flashing images to pass. It wasn't always like that, having a vision. Sometimes he barely flinched. Other times, it was almost physically painful. Another reason Clockwork didn't have many companions. He hated to show weakness.

When he steadied, Clockwork sent a quick pulse of energy and a screen of light appeared that hovered just above the floor. An image shimmered into place, and Clockwork couldn't help but watch.

It showed a family of four, all gathered together in a large, lab-like room, it's walls lined with blueprints and table covered in various wires and beakers. His eyes were immediately drawn to the farthest wall in the room where a great metallic arch was cut into the cement. Wires, mysterious fluids, and warped bits of metal littered the ground and layed in piles around the intimidating steel cave, and Clockwork could practically see the tense excitement in the air.

_The large figure of a man clad in a day-glow orange hazmat suit lumbered near the edge of the contraption, fiddling with wires and adjusting knobs. He turned briefly as a woman in a similar teal suit called out to him, motioning with her hands. The man grinned brightly, yelled back, and turned to the gauges at the side of the machine. He pulled at an opening near the gauges and filled a clear glass compartment with a glowing green substance._

Clockwork knew what it was, of course. Ectoplasm liquid ectoplasm. He also knew what would happen if the two scientists used ectoplasm far too potent for the mechanics in their device, but he did nothing to warn them. It was meant to be, and it hurt him to know that.

But it had to be done.

The real object of his attention was staring curiously at the device, his bright blue eyes wide and innocent, staring through his shaggy black bangs. The child—no more than eight, Clockwork knew–was dressed in a white and black hazmat suit, almost identical to his parents'.

_A young red-headed girl–only a couple of years older than him–was sitting on the floor near one of the cluttered tables. She obviously didn't care about what was happening around her; this was evident from the array of chapter books and toys that surrounded her. She had a strangely dressed stuffed bear in her lap while her mother fussed with the zipper of her pink hazmat. She hardly seemed to notice the way her hair was caught in the zip, so engrossed with the book in her hands_.

_Neither parent, nor their ten-year-old daughter, noticed the youngest member of their family hovering by the entrance to the steel cave as if in a trance, his eyes fixed on something only he could see._

_The man, so caught up in his excitement–and perhaps slightly impaired by the protective goggles over his eyes, called out to his wife soundlessly and connected the plugs to the machine, a wild, happy grin on his face. The woman gave a tender kiss on her unresponsive daughter's forehead and turned to smile at her husband._

_She looked to the portal eagerly, only for her face to contort in horror as she saw the contraption whirring to life, the green light poring from it silhouetting the form of her youngest child._

Clockwork felt as stab of pity for the woman as he saw her lips move soundlessly, and it only increased as the man seemed to realize what was happening, but again, he made no move to freeze time. It was necessary, he told himself time and time again. It did not make it any easier to watch.

Had the screen had sound, he would have heard the woman's frantic scream to her son, telling him to move as she jumped to her feet, before shuddering to a halt, paralysed with fear. _The man called out and made to move forward, but the shrapnel tangled around his feet prevented him from movement._

_The boy didn't appear to hear either of them, though, and his small white-clad figure moved as if_ _hypnotized closer to the portal. The green swirling light reflected brightly in his glazed eyes, as if on fire. Then, it began to fluctuate wildly._

_Wires fried and sparked, the gauges cracked and exploded outwards, sending shards of burning glass into the man's face, blinding him in the heat and pain. The woman, hearing her husbands cries of pain, jolted out of her panic-induced paralysis and tried to rush forward, only to stumble and fall to the ground as her terrified and bawling daughter clung to her leg. The woman raised herself onto her elbows and turned her anguished eyes upwards as her son's small hand reached out._

_His fingers brushed the open portal just as it exploded outwards in a rush of green fire._ Clockwork did not need volume to know that at that moment, every one of the Fenton family had been screaming.

Clockwork let the screen dissipate, a pained expression on his scarred face. The vison still flickered behind his eyes, and he knew that none of them had survived. Not really. The boy would wake up, half dead, in the rubble of his home next to the pulsing green light of the stable portal. He would understand quickly, as he was quite smart of his age. He would take one look at his reflection in the broken glass of the lab, see his powder white hair and luminescent eyes, and he would know.

He would scream, he would cry, he would throw himself at the rubble and tear at it with his bare hands, but he would find neither his parents or his sister.

They were gone. Incinerated by the blast, or crushed under falling cement, it didn't matter. They were gone.

Then, grief-stricken and terrified, he would turn to the only thing that gave him comfort: the portal that had caused this disaster. It wouldn't make sense to him, he wouldn't understand his attraction to it, nor where it would lead him to, but he would walk through the archway to the Ghost Zone.

Then, one day, he would grow to be one of the most powerful ghosts in all the Worlds.

And all would be well.

Clockwork sighed for what seemed to be the millionth time that day. He rubbed at his temples, frowning pensively. It was hard, to see to child go through such pain. Again. It was always hardest when he was young. Of course, being the Master of Time and Dimensions, he had seen it happen countless times before to the same child...in a sense. Daniel Fenton, the world's saviour, in every single timeline. Every single dimension. Every single universe. It was a constant.

Always.

Clockwork LIKED always.

It didn't always happen the same way, of course, but somehow, Daniel Fenton would gain the power of the Ghost Zone, and become a Phantom. He had seen it happen so may ways...experimentation...FULL death...and the most common, and Clockwork's personal favourite, was when the boy was fourteen. When he had two good friends, and walked into the inoperative portal of his own accord. Everything always ended well in that timeline.

Always.

Now, finally, it was happening in this realm. The centre realm. The only one that Clockwork truly controlled. He was glad—he had waited too long, had seen too many false beginnings and ends.

Clockwork's train of though shuddered to a halt as another vision wracked though him, causing him to stumble on his rarely used legs and slump into a nearby chair. The vision flared into his mind in a flash of light, and he sent a pulse into the air to properly view it.

Another screen bloomed into view, and Clockwork sighed in relief when he saw a child with white hair. This was happening a good two hours in the future. Having never seen this timeline before, Clockwork had been worried. But it was for naught: he had survived.

The boy looked miserable, but unharmed. His hazmat suit had inverted colours, much like it did in the OTHER portal-accident dimension, and it was completely undamaged. Somehow. Clockwork didn't have long to ponder that before his attention flickered to something else.

_The boy was crying–sobbing really–and shaking like a leaf. His eyes were wide and traumatized, and he was curled in on himself in the middle of nowhere. Sitting on one of the random floating rocks that littered the space between lairs in the Ghost Zone._

_The relieved blankness was replaced by an icy horror as another figure entered the scene, and put a seemingly innocent hand on the boy's small shoulder._

_Daniel looked up with tear-stained eyes._

_Plasmius smirked._

Clockwork shuddered as the vison flickered to a halt, before moving on to a new one, making his head spin and his eyes dart around frantically to take it all in.

_Plasmius sent a jot of red energy coursing through the boy, a scheming grin on his face, alight with greed and malice. Daniel screamed, a horrid, drawn out sound of pain and terror, before his green eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed._

FLASH

_Plasmius' shock and glee when the boy held in his large hands was engulfed in two rings of white light that passed down his limp body, changing him into a boy that he recognized very well._

FLASH

_The crazed look in his eye as he stared down at the tiny, insignificant looking thing that seemed so unreal in his muscular arms. The child that he knew to be the son of the man he hated...and the woman he loved..._

Clockwork let out a gasp, and breathing heavily as if he had been underwater, he struggled in vain for the breath that his body neither wanted nor needed. A final vison flickered behind his eyes, and he let out an exhausted groan of exasperation and let it fill his senses, not bothering with the screen.

What he saw chilled him to the bone.

_Soulless red eyes, alight with madness; white hair, whipped about as if on fire; fanged teeth set in a mouth that was laughing as he stood amidst piles of mangled human corpses. From his fingertips dripped blood._

Clockwork recoiled from the image in horror, belatedly remembering to dismiss the vision from his mind. He took unnecessary calming breaths and held his head in his hands until his core stopped fluctuating wildly and stabilized.

He opened his eyes, and as the familiar dark green light of his tower entered his gaze, he knew what he had to do.

It was with a heavy sense of foreboding that he formed his spectral tail and moved to the doors of his tower.

He had to confront the problem at it's source, and stop this disaster before it could happen.

. . . .. .. . . .. .. ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

**Hehe. Did I surprise you? Confuse you? Answer some questions? No? Well, I hope I did! . I d**

**The more votes Wayrift (the webcomic) gets on Tobwebcomics, the more I will try to update (but school will probably slow things down, sorry).**

**The more views, favorites and the more people following my story, The Ultimate Guide to Danny Phantom, the more I will try to update!**

**********EMERGENCY! ALL the Danny Phantom episodes are being deleted from Youtube! I am counting on you to post new ones. The more good quality DP episodes there are, the faster I will try to update!**

**********If you want me to keep updating my _Phantom in the Bund_ DP/Dance in the Vampire Bund Crossover story, the first story in a multi-crossover series spanning most of my DP crossovers, I need ************Dance in the Vampire Bund volumes 11 available ASAP! I will focus on my other stories less as well until I can get the manga so I can know more about the series (a big part of the reason I have waited so long for some of my other stories).**

**********************I know some of you are ticked off about me not having updated many of my stories. Basically, the idea is that Danny is traveling through dimensions, and that each story focuses on a different universe, Phantom in the Bund being first (though Danny Phantom in Hueco Mundo, Phantom Fairy Tale, and Phantom Spider are not part of part of this series).**


End file.
